This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Marc Macdonald will be awarding a $20 Amazon/BN gift card to a randomly drawn winner. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.
So much of what you find in my book, Between Two Seasons, came from real life. That’s not to say it’s autobiographical—it isn’t—but countless pieces of it are borrowed from the world around me. A place I once visited, the way a certain trail curved through the woods. A name overheard at a coffee shop. The sound of gravel under tires on a back road. The faint smell of rain on cedar. Those fragments live in memory, waiting to be called up at the right moment.
Ideas are unique, but they rarely arrive fully formed. More often, they’re collected like stones along the way. Writers are borrowers, observers, magpies of experience. Sometimes we borrow subtly: a stranger’s facial expression, the rhythm of a conversation, the awkward silence that follows a poorly timed joke. And yes, sometimes we steal outright. A friend’s quirky turn of phrase, a look we’ll never forget, a single moment that demands to be placed in a new context. Writing, in that sense, is not about inventing from nothing; it’s about noticing, capturing, and reshaping.
This is why paying attention is one of the most valuable tools a writer has. The world is endlessly generous with details, if you’re willing to slow down and receive them. A walk to the store can give you five new ideas if you let it: the pattern of rain on the sidewalk, the way a child negotiates with a parent, the dog that refuses to be led in any direction but its own. None of these are “stories” in themselves, but they’re seeds. And when planted in the soil of imagination, they can grow into something surprising.
But perhaps the deeper truth is that ideas don’t just come from out there, they also come from within. Every writer carries their own history, perspective, and inner landscape. A story is often an attempt to reconcile those inner truths with the outer world. The settings we choose, the conflicts we shape, the language we fall back on; all of it reflects who we are, and how we see.
So when someone asks, “Where do you get your ideas?” the answer is: everywhere. From life, from memory, from strangers, from dreams, from the tiniest things we notice and the biggest questions we wrestle with.
And maybe that’s the real joy of writing. Not that we invent worlds out of thin air, but that we take the world we already have and see it anew.
So, if you have a chance to ask a writer, “where do your ideas come from?”, do it. You will be amazed where some of them originated.
Haunted by regret and stalled by guilt, Alex Chambers arrives at Silver Springs Health and Rehabilitation Centre searching for redemption. What he finds instead is Mae Seasons—a sharp-tongued, fiercely independent resident with no interest in being anyone’s project.
Alex came hoping to make amends for the mistakes of his youth, especially to the woman he once hurt. But when that hope slips away, he’s drawn into an unexpected role: caregiver and reluctant confidant to Mae, whose irreverence hides a lifetime of buried truths.
As days at Silver Springs unfold in their strange, often absurd rhythm, Alex is forced to confront the tangled grief of his past. Through awkward silences, reluctant confessions, and moments of startling vulnerability, he and Mae forge an unlikely friendship—one stitched together by shared loneliness, reluctant compassion, and the possibility of healing.
At once poignant and quietly humorous, Between Two Seasons is a story about the lives we try to outrun, the people who challenge us to face ourselves, and the surprising ways connection takes root.
“Hey, new guy, over here,” came a voice and welcoming wave from the person sitting at a table to my left.
Shit. There goes anonymity.
I had a split decision to make: be polite and kindly dismiss the invitation or accept and possibly be pulled into the labyrinth of Silver Springs politicking. My therapist would not be pleased with this thought. I was creating an outcome, a negative outcome, to a situation I had not yet experienced. But still, I mean, how was this place unlike high school? I’d already relived several moments from my burgeoning youth, and I’d only been on the premises a very short time.
About the Author:
Marc MacDonald is an author who believes every great story starts with a spark—whether it’s a single sentence, an unforgettable character, or an idea that won’t let go. As the writer behind Between Two Seasons, a novel that celebrates the beauty of human connection, Marc weaves heartfelt narratives that linger long after the last page is turned.
When he’s not crafting compelling fiction, Marc applies his storytelling skills as a seasoned communications professional, proving that every message—whether in a book or a press release—deserves to be engaging. He’s also a fierce defender of the Oxford comma, an unapologetic pun enthusiast, and someone who firmly believes that coffee is the most essential writing tool.
Find him deep in his next manuscript, chasing inspiration, or justifying “research” as an excuse to buy more books.
